He'll Always Be There Singing Songs in My Head
by InuyashaKagome1778
Summary: Short Horror. Told from Christine's POV, her omen of the Phantom's unrelenting presence in her mind. Complete.


"Shhhh" he whispered running his spider like fingers down my temple. What was supposed to be a comforting touch turned my stomach and his voice slithered down my spine making me shudder.

"Are you cold, darling?"

I shook my head, quickly assuring him so that he would leave me alone.

I had been crying since the day I arrived in this horrible catacomb house. Every word, every touch, every sight, reminded me that I was a prisoner in this dungeon home, that my only escape would be my final escape from this world. But death seemed too far away and fleeting especially when Erik watched me for any signs of trying to prematurely depart from this wretched world.

I curled further into myself, hoping that if I were small enough I would simply disappear.

How long had it been since I had arrived? Days? Weeks? Months?

I couldn't tell. My mind was in a constant state of turmoil and nothing made sense to me. I could not tell what time of day it was, nor the day itself. I served my sentence day in and day out knowing nothing would change it.

Raoul was gone and even if he did come back to try and save me, Erik had set constructed new and deadlier traps all around the catacombs to deter anyone who tried to enter. In his sick and macabre way he had showed me himself how well the traps worked. A shrill ringing woke me one day and it wasn't long before Erik came into my room and pulled me from my bed. He dragged me out of the lake house, as I protested my lack of shoes and cloak. The wet and chilled stone stung my feet, but even as I tripped over stones and stubbed my toes, he was relentless.

He pulled up short and it took me a moment to discern why we had stopped. But then a lantern sparked to life and I could see what was in front of me. A stagehand lay at the bottom of a dark pit, spikes protruding from his body. The spikes glistened with blood, looking almost black. And the look of horror on the man's face…I shall never forget it.

"This is what happens when people trespass in Opera House. I pray that next time it is the Vicomte's body I take you to see."

"No, please!" I begged before I remembered myself. "Please…I don't wish to see any more bodies."

He looked at me shrewdly, probably guessing the real reason. "I see. You probably see enough corpses as it is. You are married to one, are you not?" He quipped.

I had no answer.

"What have you done to your feet dear child? You have to be more careful."

Looking down at my feet, I saw that they were bloodied from our travel here. The nail of my big toe had split in half and was freely bleeding. I looked up and stared at him incredulously, unwilling to voice that he himself had done this to me, in fear that he would set out in another of his mighty rages.

"Yes, Erik. I will be more careful." I promised as he led me back to our home.

That was one of my worst fears. I tiptoed and sidestepped around many issues so as not to set him off. Yet any step I took seemed to set him off. He would bellow and scream at me, ripping at my hair and gripping my flesh hard enough to draw blood. He would drag my hands to his face and dig my fingernails into his rotten flesh to pull and rip at. I wretched the first few times and he now used it as a punishment, knowing that I was horrified by it. Even now, I cried thinking of my own hands covered in his blood.

Sleep was my only outlet, but even there I was not safe. I could still hear his voice in my dreams, still feel his deathly cold touch. I dreamt of my wedding day, yet when I looked at myself in my wedding gown, I was looking at a corpse. My dream self was dressed every bit the bride, but the flesh peeling from her face and revealing the bloody muscles beneath was anything but beautiful. I screamed myself awake that night.

No I was not safe in my sleep. I wasn't safe anywhere.

Not from him.

Not from that voice.

Erik began to sing a lullaby, but it was turned into a song of nightmares by his voice. What was once the Angel of Music's voice, had become a sinister whisper full of menace. However, his voice still held a persuasive note which lulled me into a false sense of security and I subconsciously slowed my breathing. Before I slipped into a dark and restless sleep, I remembered a conversation I had with Raoul the day before the performance, the one which I was taken from. I had pleaded with him not to make me perform, but he had said that Erik was just a man. He could be caught. He could be killed. But even then I had a sinking feeling of an omen about to come true…"He'll always be there singing songs in my head…"


End file.
